


Aftermath

by SoftlyTea



Series: The Misguided Adventures of Liya and her Superiorly-Bred Mer [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Biting, D/s, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Slapping, Forced Eye Contact, Forced Masturbation, Forced Oral, Hair-pulling, Safe Sane and Consensual, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, a nod to aftercare, degradation... i guess, dirty talk... i guess, dominant Ondolemar, how to submit to the Aldmeri Dominion, i have a terrible feeling there is more buildup than actual kink, if anyone wants me i'll be hiding in my marshmallow pile, liberal use of unpleasant epithets, oh and i guess i should mention, ondolemar is sad, one use for cabbages, or at least as safe sane and consensual as you can get with a thalmor, processing awful articles, thalmor being thalmor, tw: skyrim-appropriate racial epithets (kinda), tw: slut-shaming epithets, why can't i re-order tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 19:56:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7236319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftlyTea/pseuds/SoftlyTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ondolemar attempts to process a certain ridiculous article, Liya submits to the Dominion, and everyone has a wonderful time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Ooookay. So. 
> 
> This directly follows on from [Clickbait.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7113004) Read if you want to know why Ondolemar is not a very happy mer. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I have not done a particularly good job of framing this. This is not responsibly-written kink. Yes there is a safeword, and yes there is a tiny bit of aftercare/subdrop cuddling, but for a first scene there should have been way more emotional stability, way more discussion of boundaries, way more checking in, and way less alcohol. Yes, this is only fiction, but the amount of people doing ridiculously ill-advised things because of 50 Shades of Gray makes me... wary. 
> 
> Trigger warnings, in case you didn't read the tags: face-slapping, hair-pulling, biting, forced oral, degradation, use of slut-shaming epithets, Skyrim-appropriate racial epithets (kinda). All as safe, sane and consensual as fucking a Thalmor agent could ever be. 
> 
> Bethesda owns all except Liya. ~~Ondolemar~~ I own her.
> 
> First time writing D/s. Bloody terrifying.
> 
> Right. Now that's out of the way...

Elegant fingers worry at the corner of the page where it lies discarded on the table. 

‘Do people really see us that way? So - one-dimensional?’ Ondolemar’s anger over the Black Horse Courier's ridiculous article has given way to something almost akin to sadness.

‘Well, people - people fear you. The Thalmor in general, I mean, not just you,’ Liya hedges, ‘and can you blame them? I mean, you do maintain a certain image.’

He is silent for a moment, contemplating the depths of his wine glass with a pensive expression.

‘And you, Liya?’ His gaze meets hers and holds it. ‘Do you fear me?’ 

'I did at first, but not now. At least' - she hesitates. 'No, it isn't fear. It's just - I know there is something _else_. You hide it so well, and sometimes I wonder what would happen if you didn't.' She decides it would be best just to come out and say it, embarrassment be damned. 'Especially - urm. Especially in bed.' 

For once, Ondolemar is momentarily lost for words. 'You... want me to be more...' 

'Commanding, _Commander._ ' She giggles. 'Yes. I want you to show me that terrifying Thalmor justiciar that everyone else sees. I trust you. And I... I just want you to.'

He scrutinises her with a look of such intensity she can scarcely meet his eyes. 'Very well. But listen to me.' He takes hold of her chin and lifts her face to his with that surprising gentleness she has come to love. 'This stops when you want it to, you understand me? I have no interest in truly hurting you, or forcing you to do anything against your will.' 

His eyes fall on the Courier and the article which started all this. 

'Cabbages.' 

Liya is somewhat taken aback, unsure as to the relevance of green leafy vegetables to their current conversation. 'What?' 

'Cabbages. If you say "cabbages", I promise I will stop immediately.' 

'Why "cabbages"? Why not, just, "please stop"?'

'One, that article might as well be good for something, and two, you might - well, you might... enjoy it. And-' 

Liya interrupts with a sly little grin. 'Well, I certainly hope I will.' 

'And begin to rather enthusiastically play the role that has been made available to you, let us say.' 

Understanding dawns on Liya's face. 'I see. Cabbages, then. It seems faintly ridiculous.' 

'All the better. If you want to stop, best make sure neither of us very much wants to continue after that. It isn't as if anyone could possibly find _cabbages_ arousing, after all. Now.' He brushes his lips against hers before moving away from her. 'I believe one of us is overdressed.' 

Liya's grin widens into smirk territory. 'Only one of us?' 

'Was something I said unclear?' His gaze has hardened in the time it has taken him to sink into a chair and pick up his glass of wine. 

_Ah._ The smirk falters and dies as she realises she is now in the presence of someone significantly more dangerous than just the Mer she fell in love with.

'Strip.' 

It is a simple command, issued with an imperious authority that brooks no disagreement, and Liya swallows down growing trepidation and brings her fingers up to unlace the ties on her dress. Ondolemar observes in silence, his gaze unwavering and coldly critical, his wine glass idly dangling from his fingers. By the time Liya has removed all her clothes, she is trembling, and not with cold. 

Ondolemar places his wine glass on the table. 

When his eyes narrow and his steely gaze very deliberately slips down to her feet and back again, she is unable to stifle a small whimper. Goosebumps are rising on her flesh, and he hasn't even touched her yet. 

'Hm.' After what seems an eternity to Liya, he gets to his feet, peels off his gloves and tosses them to the table in a desultory fashion. He circles her, appraising her in such a coldly clinical way that she begins to feel like a broodmare, or perhaps even a piece of meat at a butcher's stall, anything but a person; and by Dibella's mercy, this has an effect on her she wasn't sure she expected.

She does not dare look up, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on his boots and the hem of his leather robes when he stops just in front of her. 

'Listen,' he begins, 'You are' - he cuts himself short, grabbing her by the jaw and forcing her face up to meet his gaze in a brutal mockery of his gentle gesture of earlier, his voice dropping to a furious hiss, 'You will damn well look at me when I see fit to address you.' 

She bites her lip, forces herself to meet his gaze. 

'Better. As I was saying, you are _mine_. I own you. You will follow my orders without hesitation or question, and I will tolerate no hint of disrespect. Do you understand me?'

'Yes.' Her voice sounds small and pitiful, and it cracks. 

With his free hand, he grabs a handful of her hair, pulls it back, 'Yes, _what_?'

She whimpers. 'Y- yes, C-' 

His grip tightens painfully. 'Pathetic, snivelling little whore. Try again.' His breath is hot on her ear, his voice low and menacing. 

She draws a shuddering breath, willing a steadiness into her voice that she cannot feel. 

'Yes, Commander.' 

'Good.' His grip relaxes and his lips drop to her neck, planting a deceptively tender kiss to her flesh. 'Now,' he lets go of her and takes a step back, 'Get on your knees.'

She obeys wordlessly, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak even if she'd wanted to.

'Look at you now, _Dovahkiin_ ,' he sneers as he fumbles with his belt buckle, 'The great Dragonborn, who can shout dragons out of the sky, on her knees before her rightful master-' Liya has to stop herself from licking her lips at the sight that is now before her eyes - 'I wonder what else that pretty mouth of yours can do.'

The head of his cock grazes her lips, and while a part of her wants nothing more than to very enthusiastically give him what he wants and love every second of it, the desire to push her luck is growing dangerously rapidly. 

Her mouth remains resolutely closed. She even manages a grimace of disgust and a recoil. 

Retribution is swift. She scarcely has time to react to the stinging slap he lands across her cheek before his hand is in her hair again, pulling her head back to meet his eyes which are narrowed in a convincing display of fury, 'Do I have to spell it out for you, worthless little bitch? Open your mouth, suck for me, and give me a reason why I shouldn't whip you for insubordination.' 

Slowly, grudgingly, she gives him a tentative lick before taking the tip into her mouth.

'Oh, you can do better than that,' he growls, and thrusts his hips forward hard enough to hit the back of her throat. She gags, eyes watering, and looks up at him in outrage. 

'That's right,' he pulls back, hand fisting her hair still harder, 'Choke on it, submit like a good little -' he groans as her tongue hits a particularly sensitive spot, 'Auri-El, _yes,_ like a good little half-breed mongrel.' 

The effort it takes to eventually pull her away from him is apparent. His flushed face, the hand bracing himself against the wall behind him, the determined set of his jaw. The fluid glistening at the head of his cock which Liya has to stop herself from leaning forward to lick off. The strained huskiness of his voice as he hauls her to her feet, twisting her arm behind her and forcing her in the direction of the bed, 'Not bad, slut, don't even think of disobeying me now' as he drops her onto the mattress.

He folds his arms nonchalantly across his chest and watches as his dishevelled 'victim' scrambles to face him. 'You learn fast, mongrel. Perhaps you deserve some sort of reward. Touch yourself.' 

'C- Commander?' It sounds more like a squeak than anything.

'Is that deliberate recalcitrance or just plain stupidity? I shall rephrase. You will spread your legs for me, and finger that tight little cunt of yours until I judge you worthy to be shown what it really means to submit to the Dominion.'

_Oh, gods._ Liya bites her lip, averts her gaze from the Justiciar's intense glare, and does as he asks. He lazily undresses as he watches, until he moves to kneel between her legs and pulls her hand away.

'Look at you,' he growls, 'You're practically _dripping_ for me. You really must be desperate to be shown who your betters are.' 

He strokes one finger languorously across her folds, a cold little smirk his only reaction to the shudder such an action elicits. 

'You like that, I see.' 

His finger stops tantalisingly close to her clit, his expression turning even more snide as she fails to swallow a moan of frustration.

'Tell me. What do you want?' 

'I... I want you, Commander.' 

Liya gasps in sudden pain as he pinches her nipple between thumb and forefinger. 

'Not good enough. Again. What do you want?' 

'Please...' she whimpers as he squeezes harder, 'I... want you to fuck me. Commander. Please.' 

A bark of laughter as forces her arms over her head, holding both her wrists in one hand in a vice-like grip. His other hand resumes its torturous trail everywhere but where she needs it the most. 

'Better. And?'

_And?_

'And... please... put me in my place. S- show me what it really means-' she gasps as his hand is replaced by _heat,_ hard, unyielding and so, so close - 'to submit to the Dominion, oh GODS, YES' - her voice rises to a scream as he slams forward into her, teeth crashing down onto her neck and fingers digging bruisingly into her wrists. 

' _This_ is your place, half-breed bitch' he manages to choke out between brutal thrusts, 'you are _mine,_ ' he assaults her neck again, 'mine to use as I will. Is that what you wanted, little slut?' He groans as he feels her tense beneath him, willing himself to hold back, just a moment more, 'Is this what gets you off, being shown just how inferior you really are?' 

His last words are drowned out by Liya's ecstatic scream, and he buries himself in her throbbing cunt as deep as he can and comes with a guttural growl.

\--

He rolls off her, rather more quickly than he usually would, and gently turns her face towards his. 

'Liya?' 

He kisses her on the forehead, gently lacing his fingers in hers. She looks glazed, her cheeks tearstained, and she says nothing; she just shuffles a little closer to him and squeezes his hand. He kisses her again, anxiety pricking at him even through the afterglow haze. 

'Liya, I love you and respect you as my equal. You know that, don't you?' 

She nods, smiling weakly at him before burying her face in his chest. 

Ondolemar is hesitant. It is a rare feeling; he is unsure what to make of it. 'Are you - I didn't - You know I didn't mean those things.'

A soft giggle emanates from somewhere in the region of his armpit. 

'I know. You... it was wonderful. You can stop worrying, as adorable as it is. Please, just - hold me?' 

He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and gathers her gently into his arms.


End file.
